Chapter 12 #2
“This food will taste amazing then,” he promised. “Food always tastes better when we’re hungry.” He glanced at the pot of water, which had begun to boil.
“Go ahead and put in the noodles,” he told her. “Don’t do too many at once, since you don’t want them to stick together.”
“Okay.” She looked around the counter. “Where’s that box? Oh!”
She noticed it and reached for it just as Tom picked it up to hand to her.
Their hands touched, and for a moment, he felt an electric thrill pass through him.
Her hand was soft and her touch was gentle, and a warm feeling spread through his stomach.
The hairs on his big, rough hand prickled a little, and he laughed with embarrassment.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” She smiled and fumbled with the opening of the noodle box.
He glanced at her and a moment later, his heart practically stopped when he saw that she was blushing.
Had she felt the same kind of thrill over their accidental touch that he had?
Something like that couldn’t be possible, could it?
“Here,” he said, holding out his hand for the box. “I know a trick. These boxes are hard to open sometimes.”
She handed it to him, and their fingertips brushed together again. This time it felt comfortable, and almost as if they had both brought their fingers together on purpose.
Tom slid a knife under the tab of the box and handed it back to Delilah. She began to set the noodles into the pot a few at a time.
“When I was a kid,” Delilah said, smiling as she mused over her memory, “I sat on the floor of my parents’ kitchen and put noodles into a pot like this, although that one was empty.
It was so thrilling for me, pretending to be a grown-up who was really cooking.
I absolutely couldn’t wait for the day when I could do things like that.
” She shook her head. “And then we do grow up, and we act like it’s all a chore.
We don’t appreciate our abilities to do wonderful things like this. ”
Tom’s eyes traced over her face. “You know,” he said softly. “We still can. There is joy to be found in little things like this, and we can all learn to discover it for ourselves. Isn’t that what your movie is about?”
“Yes!” Her expression lit up for a moment.
“You’re right. This is the feeling I’ve been missing.
That longing for happiness, just out of reach but you know it’s there, waiting for you.
It’s a blend of hope and determination and wistfulness.
Thank you, Tom.” She took a step toward him and then stopped herself, and he wondered if she had been about to hug him.
As they continued to cook, Delilah seemed to be on Cloud Nine.
She chatted happily with Tom, telling him all kinds of funny stories about mishaps that had happened on film sets, and listening with fascination to his stories about all of the crazy things that had happened in The Lighthouse Grill over the years.
We’re becoming really good friends, he realized after a while. It’s so easy to talk to her, and I feel like I’ve known her for years. And I don’t think that’s just because I’ve seen her in so many movies. I think we’re developing a real connection here.
Before long, the food was ready. They dished the noodles onto a couple of plates and smothered them in the tangy sauce and juicy meatballs. Then they carried their plates back out to the booth where they’d been running lines and began to eat.
As soon as Delilah took her first bite, she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, wow,” she said. “This is incredible.”
“How does it feel knowing you made it yourself?” he asked, thrilled that she loved it.
She shook her head, laughing. “I didn’t do a thing. You’re the mastermind here.”
“You did plenty. We made it together.”
They shared a smile and then enjoyed their food quietly together for a few minutes.
Tom was also hungry, even though he’d eaten a small dinner around five o’clock.
The flavors of the food tasted richer to him than anything he’d eaten in a long time, and he realized that it was the first time in a while that he’d cooked a meal with someone else for himself to eat.
It felt good, and he found himself wishing that he would have a chance to cook with her again.
Maybe then he could test out one of those recipes that he’d been dying to try.
As if she’d been reading his thoughts, Delilah smiled and said exactly what he most wanted to hear in that moment. “This was a lot of fun, Tom. Maybe we could cook together again sometime.”
Tom couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear. “I would love that,” he told her, feeling his heart beat faster with eagerness.
“Maybe—do you think we could cook with Alexis and some of the other Owens women?” she asked, laughing shyly. “I keep thinking about them. I met them the other day at that bakery, and they were all so sweet. I really enjoyed meeting them.”
“The Owens are a wonderful family,” Tom said, not at all surprised that the Owens women had made a wonderful impression on Delilah. “And from what I understand, they’re all big fans of yours.”
“That’s what they said,” Delilah said, blushing slightly, which Tom found incredibly endearing. “Apparently, Hazel’s daughter Samantha is the biggest fan of them all, although I didn’t get a chance to meet her. I hope I get to meet her before our film shoot is over.”
Tom chuckled good-naturedly. “I think that would just rock her world, in the best way. We all love Samantha—she’s got more energy than the rest of us put together.
And I think you know that nobody can be excited in the way a preteen can.
She’s a sweet girl, but she’s smack-dab in the middle of that early-teen craziness. ”
Delilah laughed. “I remember those years well. Mine were definitely what you’d call ‘crazy and mixed up.’ That was when I experienced my first aspirations to become an actress, which made it all even more complex.
At first my parents wouldn’t hear of it, but I begged and pleaded and refused to consider any other career.
” She shook her head, a nostalgic look in her eyes.
“In the end, they started to believe in me, but it took me proving myself a few times before that happened.”
Tom smiled. “And now look at you. Clearly, those teenage aspirations were well-founded.”
Delilah beamed at him. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“Let me see if I can pull some strings,” Tom said, wanting to do something more for her. Something that would make her happy. “I think I can arrange for us to cook with the Owens, if you’d really like to do that.”
Delilah nodded eagerly. “I really would. I—I’m completely falling in love with this little town. I want to soak up as much of its goodness as I can before I have to leave.”
After sharing another smile, they finished their meal, chatting like old friends as they ate.
Then they went back to reading through the scenes.
Delilah seemed elated instead of frustrated this time, and she brought so much life and sincerity to her lines that Tom finally understood why she’d felt that something had been missing from the way she’d been performing the scene earlier.
I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or the day after that, he thought, watching her face as she looked out across the restaurant with a passionate expression, but I’m so grateful that I’m here now.
That she and I have struck up this unlikely friendship, and I get to be close to her like this, if only for a little while.
Tom smiled and looked down at the screenplay again, getting ready to read his next line.